


Fifteen Months, Give or Take

by eeyore9990



Series: Fifteen Months [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek found his words, Discussion of dead characters, Future Fic, M/M, Post-3A, all of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 3A, Stiles puts all his energy into healing the pack.  Because if he can make it stable, make Beacon Hills safe...</p><p>Maybe Derek will come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifteen Months, Give or Take

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leela_cat (Leela)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/gifts).



> In the midst of writing a multi-chap, canon handwavey fic (my technical first in this fandom), this idea smashed into my brain. It flew off my fingers in a matter of hours and...I don't even know. 
> 
> I have feels, okay? 
> 
> Because it is ALL HER FAULT for RUINING MY LIFE by introducing me to Teen Wolf, this is dedicated to Leela. 
> 
> Beta'd by the ever fabulous Valress.

_"Go."_

_Derek looked up from the newspaper where he'd been circling want ads, a frown on his face. "What?"_

_Eyes focused on the chip in her coffee mug that she was running a distracted finger back and forth over, Cora cleared her throat and said, "To Beacon Hills. You should go. Back, I mean."_

_Derek carefully set down his pen and reached across the table, hooking one finger around Cora's, stopping her nervous movements. Using that hold, he dragged her hand toward his, not adjusting his grip, just keeping their fingers hooked together. "I'm not leaving you. Never again."_

_A ragged breath split the suddenly-charged air between them, and Derek honestly couldn't have said which of them it originated from. Kicking his chair back, he rounded the table and pulled Cora into his arms, burying his face in her hair, breathing in the scents of family. Home._ Pack. __

_Cora's arms moved around him with none of the hesitation that had marked the first few months of their trip. She relaxed against him, turning her face into his throat and snuggling closer. "Then we'll go together," she said, the words muffled against his skin._

_Derek froze, the idea of taking her back there, back to the place that had taken the rest of his family, sent a knot of fear to his throat, choking him. But he couldn't deny that Beacon Hills--and those he'd left behind--pulled at him, at his very soul, the tug so hard that sometimes he thought it would stop his heart if he didn't give in to the urge._

_"I..." He shook his head, unable to put in words the emotions swamping him._

_But Cora, for all that they'd spent so many years apart, knew him. She smoothed a hand down his side, settling him, as the other remained plastered against his back, holding him tightly. "It's okay," she whispered. "We don't have to leave right now, but... Soon. Okay? Soon."_

_They held each other as the sun faded behind the horizon, a weak sliver of moon hiding away behind wispy clouds._

 

Derek stared through the windshield, his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. There were cars everywhere and the sounds of laughter, of happiness, rang from the house. Cora's hand reached up to cover his. 

"Hey. Don't hurt your baby," she said, a sarcastic edge to her teasing tone.

Derek rolled his eyes and eased his fingers from the wheel. "Do you think we should...?"

Cora slammed the shifter into park, ignoring his scowl as she reached across the console to shut off the engine and snatch the keys from the ignition. "You know protocol as well as I do. We greet the Alpha. Let's go."

She was out of the car and halfway up the sidewalk before Derek even had his door open. He went to step out, then cursed at the sudden restriction and remembered to undo his seatbelt. Untangling himself, he put on a burst of speed, slamming his door and lunging over the hood of the car in an attempt to catch up with Cora before anyone inside could answer the bell she'd already rung.

As he landed on the porch beside Cora, the door swung open to show a curiously grinning Scott, whose face immediately went slack in surprise. 

"Derek?" A slow, genuine, familiarly lopsided smile began spreading across Scott's face before he left the safety of the doorway to wrap strong arms around Derek, pulling him into a quick, tight hug. Clapping him on the back, Scott let go only to swing Cora off her feet. "I can't believe it! This is fantastic! Come in. The whole pack is here. Who told you about the meeting?"

Confusion swamped Derek and the scent of it came off Cora as well, so he knew he wasn't alone in wondering at the warmth of Scott's welcome. "Uh, we just...got to town?"

"Oh man!" Scott enthused, there was no other word for it, before dashing ahead of them to where a few strangers were glancing at them curiously. "Stiles!"

Derek looked at Cora, who just shrugged and followed Scott. As they approached the living room, Derek saw it was quite literally packed with people. He saw Isaac, Allison, Lydia, the Sheriff, Mrs McCall, Danny, the twins-- _Boyd's blood spilling across his hands as he tried to hold his heart safe, tried to_ \--Derek shook off the memories and allowed his gaze to finish sweeping the room. Deaton was in the corner; his nod of greeting was small, but accompanied by a genuine smile. And then he saw Stiles, holding court at the front of the room, standing absolutely still beside Chris Argent, a small metal cylinder dropping from his fingers as Derek met his shock-wide eyes. 

"Derek." It was just a breath of sound, but everyone in the room with enhanced hearing, and Derek could sense four more betas in the room than Isaac, noticed and turned to look at Derek with far more than the offhand curiosity that had been directed at him since entering the house. This was focused, intent. 

Stiles obviously felt the shift in the atmosphere of the room and shook his head with a small burst of laughter. "Okay, someone push pause on the meeting." Turning to search out Scott, Stiles raised his eyebrows and said, "Puppy pile time?"

Like a switch had been flipped, the lounging teenagers all burst upward, chattering and laughing as they advanced on Derek and Cora, surrounding them. Derek endured the unexpected welcome as long as he could before he slipped out of... He blinked, realizing he couldn't even think of it as anything other than a puppy pile. 

As soon as he was free of clinging arms, a hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him. Before he even turned, he knew by the scent of gun oil and stale coffee that it was the Sheriff. His confusion must have shown in his eyes because the Sheriff just tilted his head toward the kitchen, which was remarkably free of people but still open to the living room.

Derek cast a glance back toward the group of teens, searching out Cora, who caught his eye and nodded before turning back to an excited Lydia. Not that she was acting excited, but even Derek could see the sparkle in her eyes.

"Come on, son, she's among friends. You both are. Let's get a drink and talk."

Derek moved around the large central island that separated the living room from the kitchen, following the Sheriff to what appeared to be a drink station. There had obviously been several neat rows of pre-poured drinks before the meeting began. Now there were odds and ends left over, two pink plastic cups of lemonade, one yellow cup of clear soda, and three blue of some kind of dark soda. They all had chips of mostly melted ice in them, but Derek grabbed one anyway, fingers slipping a bit in the condensation that dotted the cup. His gaze fell on the tray of crumbs that sat forlornly at the side, two halves of a broken store-brand cookie all that remained.

"From the look on your face, I'm thinking you didn't expect to walk into a pack meeting."

Derek shook his head, gaze straying back to where his sister was punching Isaac, lip pulled back in a mock-snarl. "No, we..." And he didn't know what to say, because he couldn't just say their expectations had been to wade back into the constant threat of death that had lingered over this town the last time he'd seen it. "What happened?" he asked instead.

Sheriff Stilinski didn't ask him to elaborate, his proud gaze travelling across the room to where Stiles was standing, and it only occurred to Derek then that while Stiles had instigated the puppy pile, he hadn't moved from his spot at the front of the room. "Stiles happened. Once I knew..." he spread his hands. "I guess he'd been thinking about it for a while. He had a plan."

"But Scott--"

Stilinski cut him off with a look. "Scott might be the Alpha, but you and I both know that boy couldn't plan his way out of a wet paper bag."

Derek flushed, feeling the censure beneath the statement. As bad as Scott's plans had been, Derek's had always been worse.

Taking pity on him, Stilinski slid past the moment with an explanation. "One of my deputies ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's only still walking around because Scott bit him." His trigger-calloused finger pointed to where a thirty-something man stood talking to a pretty blonde woman holding a toddler. "Then there was Doctor Holden. Deaton can't be on call all the time for the pack's humans. When things get out of hand and we need medical cleanup, he and Melissa cover the hospital angle."

"How did he...?"

"Stiles recruited him." There was obviously a story there; just as obvious was the Sheriff's unwillingness to share it. 

Before Derek could say anything else, he heard, "So Allison had a baby."

Shocked, he jerked around to see Stiles standing across the kitchen island from him. Behind him, Allison was looking on in confusion, her head shaking back and forth. Tracking the path of his gaze, Stiles rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, not really, but she _could have_ and you would never know because you were _gone_ long enough."

Derek heard the thin plastic of his cup crackle a warning and he set it down before he could crush it. Looking at Stiles, he thought of five different things to say before he shrugged and went with, "I'm sorry."

Whatever steam Stiles had built up dissipated at that. "You're....sorry? _You_?"

"Stiles..."

"Hush, Scott, I'm...processing."

Scott rolled his eyes at Derek from over Stiles' shoulder before turning back to the group surrounding Cora.

"Would it help if I listed all the things I'm sorry for?" Derek asked, then smirked and added, "In alphabetical order?"

"As fucking hilarious--sorry, Dad--as that would be, I'd have a stroke, so no. Please don't use that phrase again for at least a week. I don't think my heart can handle the strain."

The Sheriff muttered something about drama queens before clapping Derek on the back. "Where are you and Cora staying?"

"There's a motel--"

"Rhetorical question, jackass," Stiles said, glaring at him. "You're staying with us. Cora can have the guest room, and you can sleep with me."

"I'll pull out the air mattress when I get home."

Stiles turned his glare on his father. "Can't. Scott popped it last time he spent the night."

"No I--" Scott's denial was cut off by the application of Stiles' hand to his face. Which was amazing because he never broke eye contact with his father.

"Yes, you did," Stiles muttered darkly.

Derek was impressed with how steady Stiles' heart beat through the obvious lie. Of course, it wasn't nearly as impressive as the argument Stiles and the Sheriff were having with just their facial expressions. 

Stilinski's shoulders dropped on a gusty sigh. "Fine. It's not like you and Scott haven't shared it before."

" _Exactly._ "

"What's going on?" Cora murmured in his ear, and it took all his strength not to physically flinch. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let someone sneak up on him, but he'd been so enthralled with the weird undercurrents running through the conversation between Stiles and the Sheriff that he hadn't been paying attention to anything else in the room.

The room full of ex-hunters and strange werewolves.

Holy shit, he was going to die.

"I have no idea," he muttered.

"So, I guess this means you're going to stick around now?" he heard Scott ask.

"Yeah, for a little while at least, if that's okay with you," he said, his tone dropping into the formal notes of a request.

Scott, who'd been looking at Stiles, turned to him with a startled expression that smoothed over quickly. "Hey, yeah, of course. This is your pack too, you know. You don't have to follow protocol here."

Derek blinked, opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it. A tiny grin touched his lips, and he tilted his head to show submission before saying, "I feel like I should scream about how you're not my Alpha. For form's sake."

A blush rushed up Scott's cheeks before he laughed and gripped Derek's shoulder in one hand, squeezing companionably. "Yeah, yeah, I was 16 and had authority issues, what can I say?"

Derek laughed with the others and felt himself relax for the first time in nearly a decade.

~*~

After rescheduling the pack meeting, going to the diner for a conversation-laden group meal where Derek caught up with Isaac, Allison, Scott, and Lydia--but not Stiles, who seemed content to sit back and watch, a small smile curving his lips--Derek and Cora drove up to Stiles' house and lugged all their belongings through the front door.

"It's so strange," Derek muttered, taking in the entryway.

"What? It's nice. Is it different than before?"

Stiles snorted at Cora's question from his position half-way up the stairs. "He wouldn't know. He always just used my bedroom window."

"Wow, creepy pedophile alert."

"Right?!"

"Shut up," Derek said, elbowing past Stiles. "First shower!" he called over his shoulder.

"Make it quick! No admiring your moobs in the mirror."

Derek dropped his head to his chest, one hand coming up to cover the chuckle that refused to stay behind his teeth. Shaking his head, he dug through his bags for a toothbrush and boxers, then took a very brief--thank you, Stiles--shower.

Wet towel slung over his head to catch any excess drops, he stopped by Cora's room to make sure she was settling in well before ducking downstairs to bid the Sheriff a good night. By the time he made it back to Stiles' room, Stiles was already done with his own shower and lounging on his bed under only a thin sheet, in deference to the summer heat outside.

"Hit the light," Stiles said, then lay quietly as Derek hung his towel over the back of the chair and flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Derek walked around the bed and eased beneath the sheet, his foot sliding against Stiles' bare leg for a heart-stopping moment before he settled on his back, blinking up at the glow in the dark constellations spread out on the ceiling.

The house settled around them after Cora took her shower and the Sheriff trudged up the stairs, calling a soft good night through the half-open door before pulling it shut. Derek heard the click of the latch echoing in his head long after it closed, the sound _significant_ in a way that made no sense.

"Scott was happy." Stiles' whisper broke the silence. "When you left."

Derek absorbed that like a punch to the gut and was trying to decide how to respond when Stiles made an impatient noise.

"Not happy _that_ you left. Happy for you that you could leave. He knew how bad it was for you here, not just because of the Alphas and the Darach and... Well. That fucked up year. But everything else too. He said he hoped you could find some happiness somewhere."

It went quiet again and Derek wondered if he was supposed to say something, fill the silence, but he couldn't. What could he say? Happiness wasn't something he'd ever been capable of finding.

"I'm an asshole, though." 

Derek turned his head on the pillow, looking at the dark silhouette of Stiles' face against the dim light coming through the window.

"I didn't want you to find happiness."

His eyes slid closed on a wince at the viciousness of Stiles' words, his tone. "I'm sorry," Derek muttered. "If it makes you feel better--"

"I didn't want you to find happiness _somewhere else._ "

Derek opened his eyes and couldn't stop a small gasp from escaping, because Stiles was staring at him from inches away, face taut with everything he hadn't said.

"Stiles." The words came then, like he'd just been waiting for Stiles to _look at him_. "I took Cora down the coast when we left. To Disneyland. I hated it. We went to Florida to have butterbeer in Hogsmeade. It was bland and disgusting. We flew to London and there's no portal to platform 9 3/4. We tried and just got headaches from bashing into the wall. I went everywhere, dragging Cora with me because we were so broken..." Derek closed his eyes, looking inward, seeing all the wastelands of the earth spread out in front of him. "And then we pulled up to Scott's house today. You know what we found?"

Stiles stayed silent, which... Derek opened his eyes again, to make sure Stiles wasn't sleeping through this. Moonlight washed into the room, cutting across Stiles' face and making his eyes almost luminous.

"Happiness." Derek rolled onto his side, bringing one hand up to cup around Stiles' neck. "It was pouring out of his house. But it wasn't him. It was you."

"The pack."

"I didn't come back for the pack. Or for Scott."

Stiles' eyes dropped to Derek's mouth and a small frown appeared between his eyebrows. "I can't... I can't be your happiness, Derek. That's not how it works."

"I know. But can I...try? To learn. With you?"

"I was going to leave. Next week. To come find you. That's what the meeting was about, setting up a new schedule for patrols." There was a long beat of charged silence as they stared at each other, letting everything sink in.

Finally, Stiles' lips quirked. "I'm jealous."

Derek just arched an eyebrow, lips twitching before he even heard the nonsense Stiles was gearing up for. 

"You went away for fifteen months and found your words, dude. I want to know what secret bus station locker you were keeping them in. And if there's a billion dollars in an unmarked gym bag in it with three sets of fake passports."

"Oh my god, Stiles," Derek said, smashing Stiles' face into his pillow. "We were having a _moment._ "

"Aww, did I ruin it? Were you about to kiss me? Because I--"

It was probably a good thing Derek had left before he'd had an opportunity to taste Stiles because if he'd done this Before, he'd never have left. And Stiles deserved better than the broken husk of a man he'd been then. 

Because _God_ he tasted good. 

One kiss and Derek was addicted. He wanted this every day, all the time. 

Stiles' hands yanked him up and over until they were tangled together, quietly taking each other apart. When Stiles' hips started rutting up against him, Derek shook his head, breaking the kiss and dropping his nose to run the tip back and forth over the frantically beating pulse in Stiles' neck. "We can't. Not...here. Not so soon. Not with your dad and my sister listening to every squeak of your mattress."

"'Not so soon'?! Fifteen months, Derek!" Stiles' whisper was a strangled scream, but he stilled his hips, baring his teeth at Derek's bitten-off whimper of loss. 

"How did this happen?" Derek asked, his lips brushing the skin of Stiles' throat. "You hated me."

Stiles ran shaky fingers through the short hair at the back of Derek's head, calming them both, though Derek noticed neither of their erections waned. "You know what I hated most about you?" Without waiting for a reply, he said, "How fucking impossible it was to hate you. I wanted to. Every time you came around, Scott almost died. I almost died. But I couldn't do it, because you were right there, almost dying with us. _For_ us. Running so fast, trying so goddamn hard to keep your head above water, to keep it together when anyone else would have gone completely insane. You were so fucking broken, but strong enough to hold the pieces together when we needed you to. And when you left..."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be. I knew you needed to leave. I wanted you to stay for me, for my own selfish reasons. But you? Yeah, you needed to leave. This town was going to swallow you whole if you didn't."

They settled into silence again, racing hearts slowly calming. Derek was almost asleep when he heard Stiles say, "Do you miss it?"

Derek shifted his head where it lay on Stiles' chest. "Hmm?"

"Being an alpha."

"No. God no. I was never meant to be an alpha. I _sucked_ at being an alpha. The best thing that ever happened to this pack was for you to take over those duties."

Stiles tensed under him. "I'm not..."

"You kinda are. You're running shit. I mean, technically, yeah, Scott got the power. But you? You're making it _work_." When it seemed like Stiles might argue with him, Derek shifted up and kissed him quiet. He kept it gentle and as free of passion as possible, knowing they both needed time to let this thing between them settle before pushing it further. Pulling back, he murmured, "Accept the compliment. It was a broken clusterfuck when I left. You made it a pack, and a strong one."

"I had to. Everything was so fucked up after you left. I just... I had to fix it. I kept thinking if I could make the pack stable enough, make Beacon Hills safe again, you'd come home. And it helped me too, gave me something other than that darkness to focus on. But then it _was_ fixed. We had a solid pack structure that was filled with something other than scared teenagers--"

"I'm sorry--"

"No, Jesus, don't be. You don't think I know why it happened like that? Fuck, Derek, you did everything on your own. We were no fucking help. We just kept getting in the way! I can't help thinking, if we'd worked with you instead of constantly fighting you, maybe Boyd and Erica would still be alive. Maybe Gerard would be fucking dead. Maybe...maybe the Alpha pack would have just passed us by."

"Stiles, no. It's not your fault. I wasn't in a place where I could accept help. And...I didn't want you involved. I wanted you safe." Derek traced a pattern over Stiles' chest absently until Stiles caught his hand, entwining their fingers. "Besides. If the Alpha pack hadn't come through..."

"Cora."

"All the fucked up stuff that happened, all the mistakes I made, and I still got her. It's not... It doesn't make up for Boyd and Erica. But--"

"She's your family. You're allowed to be happy to have her."

Derek swallowed, emotion and exhaustion swamping him in equal measure. "It took a long time to understand that. That I'm allowed to be happy."

"Fifteen months, give or take?"

"Yeah." 

Stiles' arm tightened around him, one hand carding through his hair, like nothing else needed to be said. Derek burrowed into Stiles' chest and let himself fall into sleep, secure for the first time since childhood in the knowledge that it was safe to do so.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm not done with this universe, but I have no ideas for what to write. However, even though it's only been a part of my brain for about 24 hours, I feel like I know every detail of everything that happened during those 15 months. So if you feel like prompting me, I might be inclined to write something. :D


End file.
